


Rub Me the Right Way

by cherie_morte



Series: genie-Jensen!Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Inspired by Aladdin (1992), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: AU:"You're a genie and you live in Chad's bong?" Jared asks stupidly."It's a lamp," the genie replies. "It's a goddamn lamp!"





	Rub Me the Right Way

**Author's Note:**

> Repost of my 2012 [J2_everafter](http://j2-everafter.livejournal.com/) based on the prompt **Aladdin** and originally posted [here](http://infatuated-ink.livejournal.com/75753.html). Art by the magnificently talented [maichan](http://maichan.livejournal.com/) can be found [here](http://maichan808.livejournal.com/82951.html).

It was a long day.

Not a bad one exactly, though certainly not a good one. Just long. Boring. The kind of day Jared has almost every day, which only made it longer. He's not in a bad mood, but he's exhausted and definitely looking forward to getting home. All he wants in the world are a warm, home-cooked meal and a little peace and quiet, and he knows he won't get the first, but he thinks he has a good chance at the second.

At least until he rounds the corner and sees the unfamiliar blue sedan sitting in his driveway. Jared heaves a sigh. He knows what strange cars in front of his house mean by now, and maybe it makes him the worst friend in the world, but the last person Jared wants to see on a night he's craving silence is Chad.

He parks and spends a few minutes in his car taking deep breaths and trying to mentally prepare himself for Chad Time before getting out, careful not to hit the other car in his too-narrow driveway, and stomping his way to the front door.

"Dude, I have terrible news," is the first thing Jared hears from his living room.

Great. Just what he was hoping to hear.

Jared shrugs out of his coat and drops his briefcase by the door. Deep breaths. Don't say anything snappy. This might be serious, and Chad might need Jared's patience.

"What's wrong?" he asks, setting his cell phone on the table and walking past the kitchen.

"My bong is broken," Chad says mournfully.

As Jared gets closer, he can see Chad sitting on the couch with his legs open and his feet on the coffee table, a beer—Jared's beer—resting in his hands between them. There's a giant bong on the couch next to him; it's nearly as tall as Chad is sitting down.

Jared will not murder his best friend. He's on a damn winning streak with that, and he's going to do his best not to fuck it up. But, oh, the temptation.

Jared knocks Chad's feet away, pushing the table back to the middle of the room where it was when he left this morning. Chad makes a surprised sound and sits up indignantly, waving his—no, Jared's—beer in the air.

"What the fuck, man?" Chad says at the same time Jared asks, "Do you even own a phone?"

"Of course I own a phone," says Chad, as if he has no idea why Jared's bringing it up. "How else could I watch porn at work?"

It would be so easy to strangle him right now, Jared thinks. No one would even miss him, probably. Except maybe Jared.

"Okay, great. So next time your bong is malfunctioning, could you please pause your porn and call me?" _So I can ignore it._

Chad laughs, clapping Jared on the back. "That's ridiculous. How are you supposed to fix it for me over the phone?"

There are so many logical answers to that question that Jared doesn’t even know how to respond.

"You're my gadget guy," Chad adds. "Fix my gadget!"

Jared rubs at his temple. "Chad, a bong is not a gadget. I work in technology and this thing looks about 800 years old. Can't you take it back to the head shop and ask them to explain it to you?"

Chad frowns. "No, dude. I didn't get it at Floyd's. I got it at some antique place while I was shopping with my mom this weekend. I kept asking the guy at the store where I put the pot, but he had a weird accent, and I had no idea what he was saying."

"You bought a bong while you were shopping with your mother?"

Chad grins. "It was cool looking! Anyway, ma didn't know what it was. Just said it was lovely and went off to hassle someone about rug prices."

Jared shakes his head.

"Hey man, you seem kinda tense. You should have a beer."

"How nice of you to offer me my own beer," Jared says.

Chad misses the bite in Jared's tone, just smiles wide. "No problem. What are friends for, right?"

"Get out."

"What?"

"No, really. This is not the night. Get into your stolen car, drive back to the lot, and do your damn job, or so help me god—"

"It's not stolen, it's borrowed."

"I will murder you."

Somehow they end up in a staring contest, and Jared manages to glare into Chad's beady eyes until Chad huffs, shaking his head as he stands. "Fine!" he says. "Man, wouldn't have bothered stopping by to keep you company if I knew something died up your ass today."

Jared does his best not to relent or apologize for his pissy behavior. He knows Chad will exploit it if he shows weakness, and then he'll never get rid of him. He also knows Chad will forget all about this by the next time Jared calls him, so no harm no foul. And he just really cannot put up with it tonight.

"You're forgetting your bong," Jared says helpfully once Chad's halfway across the room.

Chad just raises an arm, waving dismissively. "What do I want it for?"

"I don't want it!" Jared says. "You think I want my parents to come visit and see that thing in my living room?"

Chad shrugs. "It's on your couch. It's your problem."

Chad smiles as he opens the door, and god damn him, he has a point. There's not much Jared can do about it. Chad flips him off on his way out, and Jared is left wondering if getting him to leave was the battle and getting him to take the bong was the war or vice versa.

He sits and enjoys the silence for a few minutes before looking back toward the kitchen despondently. He should probably get up and warm whatever microwavable crap he has in the freezer for tonight, but it seems like so much effort for so little result.

"Too bad you're broken," Jared says to the bong. He turns, picking it up to look closer. It is kind of insanely pretty now that he can see it close up. There are elaborate designs carved into the metal base, it probably says something, but Jared doesn't recognize the characters, and the glass tube is painted like someone actually gave a crap about it.

Jared can’t help wondering how much Chad paid for the damn thing just to leave it sitting on his couch. He sees a smudge on it, so he pulls his shirt up and tries to rub it away. The dirty spot doesn't budge, but the bong does.

It jumps. Right into the air, and suddenly there's smoke pouring out of the top and then there's a really, really hot guy standing in Jared's living room.

"This bong is not broken," Jared says, blinking through the haze. "This bong is potent as all fuck."

He doesn't even know how he lit it.

"Hi," says the hot guy, all calm and casual—almost businesslike. As if he comes out of bongs all the time.

Jared stares at him for a few seconds, wondering if he'll recognize him from some _I Dream of Genie_ spoof porn or something, which would explain why Jared's hallucinating him. But he's pretty sure he's never seen this face before. He would remember this face.

The man also doesn't start reciting cheesy dialogue and taking his clothes off, which rules out the porn theory. Damn.

"Hi?" Jared replies. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," says the stupidly gorgeous figment of Jared's imagination. "But you want to."

Oh, good. That seems like a promising start for a fantasy.

"Yes, I can see that. Um." Jared's not sure what he's supposed to say to steer this conversation to the part where he imagines lots of hot, sweaty sex and is blazed out of his mind enough to think it's real. "Why do I want to know you?"

"Because I'm your genie, and now I'm going to grant you three wishes." The man waits a few seconds then adds a little bitterly, "Master."

"You're a genie and you live in Chad's bong?" Jared asks stupidly.

"It's a lamp," the genie replies. "It's a goddamn lamp!"

"Looks like a bong."

He throws his hands into the air. "How many times is this bong thing gonna happen?"

"Er," Jared replies.

The genie looks back at him, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, this is promising. I can tell you're going to be just as great for company as the last ten guys who thought they were getting a bong."

Jared knows his intelligence is being insulted here, but it doesn't seem worth arguing over. He's still fairly certain he's just tripping balls. "Are you really a genie? Because you don't really look like a genie."

"What am I supposed to look like?" he asks.

Suddenly there's a giant pink puff of smoke, and Barbara Eden is standing in front of Jared in harem pants, only she's got big green eyes and freckles, just like the dude who was standing there before. It's pretty much the best party trick ever. "This?" she asks.

Before Jared gets a chance to say yes, there's another puff of smoke, blue this time, and Barbara Eden is replaced by a giant blue man with no feet, black hair pulled into a ponytail, and a bright red cummerbund. He still has the green eyes and freckles, though. "Or maybe this?"

Jared nods. "Yup. Both of those things make more sense."

There's a green cloud, and the pretty guy is back. "Well, too bad," he says. "This is what you get."

Jared's genie is a very angry genie. He finds this a little disheartening. "I can settle."

"How kind of you," says the genie. "All right, so here's how this works. I'm here to grant your wishes. Three of them, to be exact. Any three wishes in the world, though I do have some rules.

"Rule Number One: I will not bring your loved ones back from the dead. I know it seems like a good idea now, but trust me that shit is not pretty in practice."

Jared snorts. "I'll take your word for it."

"Rule Number Two: no wishes that are going to majorly effect the world. Sorry, Miss America. No world peace. Think smaller. More selfish. I'm sure you won't have a problem with it.

"Rule Number Three: I can't make anyone fall in love with you. Consent is very important to me, and I hope to you as well. Okay, that's it. What have you got?"

"Uh," Jared says. He's been saying that a lot tonight.

The genie flat out laughs at him. "I say, 'anything you want, you got it, just make a wish,' and he says, 'uh.'"

Jared is just about done with the guy's bad attitude. He was supposed to be the one in a pissy mood tonight. Anyway, he's still not sure he even believes any of this.

"I'm just not convinced," Jared says, relaxing back into his couch.

"Not convinced," says the genie, his green eyes flashing. "Should I do the transforming into icons from crappy 60s television thing again?"

"Nah," Jared says. "I mean, so you can transform. Whatever. It doesn't sound like you can do anything useful. No world peace. I bet you can't even magic me up a warm dinner."

The genie's eyes narrow to slits, and he snaps his fingers. Suddenly there's a goddamn steak the size of Texas on Jared's table, served with mashed potatoes and a bunch of other side dishes Jared can't even identify. It smells like Heaven.

Jared's eyes go wide and he waits all of a second before running to the setting at the head of the table and beginning to devour everything within reach.

"Still think I can't do anything?"

"NurIbeleevewe," Jared says through his stuffed mouth.

Jared sees white letters suddenly flash up on his wall. They spell out "no, I believe you," which is what Jared was trying to say. He's got a genie _and_ subtitles. That is so freaking cool.

"Oh, good," says the genie. "Now, master, about your last two wishes."

"Two?" Jared says, pausing before shoving another forkful of food down his throat. "Try three, amigo."

Genie raises an eyebrow. "And the wonderful meal you're currently enjoying?"

Jared grins through stuffed cheeks. "All your ego trying to prove me wrong, man," he swallows, "I never wished for it."

For a long minute, the genie just blinks at him, clearly thrown off his game. Finally he says, "You're clever."

"I don't like to brag about it."

The green eyes glare yet again. "I hate it when my masters are clever."

"Don't get mad, baby," Jared says, grinning.

"My name's not Baby. It's Jensen. Use it."

"Yes, master," Jared jokes.

Jensen's lips thin. "I'm not the master, you're the master."

Jared laughs. "As wonderfully kinky as that is, why don't you just call me Jared?"

"Because…" He tilts his head. "If that's what you want, Master Jared."

"No, just Jared. Seriously."

"Fine. Jared." Jensen pauses. He's watching Jared closely, something unreadable in his eyes.

It's making Jared uncomfortable. "Why don't you sit down and have some food? Even I can't eat all of this."

Jensen frowns, but he does float his way to the other side of the table and take a seat. "I can't," he says. "Can't taste anything. Can't feel anything." He reaches out, passing his hand through the glass tabletop. Jared gasps, a little delighted by the spectacle, which makes the genie smile weakly. "It's kinda cool, huh?"

"Seems, I don't know. Like it kinda sucks."

Jensen shrugs. "It's protection. For both of us. Means I can't get fed up with my master and try attacking them, and my master can't get any ideas about…"

He doesn't finish his thought, but he doesn't really have to. All it takes is a quick glance at the guy's face to know what kind of ideas people probably get about him. And his mouth. Like the idea Jared is currently getting. Shit, that's bad. That makes Jared a little bit of an asshole.

He clears his throat, looking away from the eye candy and taking a sip from the glass of wine sitting by his plate. God, it's good. Jared loves nothing like he loves good wine, but he can't usually afford to get anything even decent, let alone something like this. 

"Is it good?" Jensen asks. "Some of this stuff used to be my favorite."

He's staring longingly at a bowl of something mushy that Jared hasn't had the balls to try yet, so Jared serves himself a little just to be polite.

"It's really great," Jared tells him. "Thank you."

Jensen looks up again. "That's nice to hear."

Jared's not sure what he means by that. He lets it go. "So you weren't always Jensen the Genie, then?"

Jensen shakes his head. "No. No I was not."

"How does one get turned into a genie?"

"It's a long story," Jensen tells him. "I'd rather not get into it, if you don't mind."

Jared looks up at him. "Yeah, man. Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Jensen shrugs. "So, wishes? I like to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"I wish for a hundred more wishes," Jared says.

"Remember when I said you were clever?" Jensen asks.

Jared nods.

"You're not that clever."

Jared laughs. "It was worth a shot, right?"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Oh yeah, that was very productive."

"Well, you didn't include it in your list of no-nos. You should have included it."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Good," Jared says. "Because I bet if I took you to court, the judge would say you have to honor it."

"Three wishes, smartass," Jensen replies, smiling just a little. "Unless you really want to walk into a court and tell them your genie is being mean."

"Point." Jared leans back in his chair for a few seconds, thinking hard. "It's a big decision to make on the fly, you know. Three wishes. Anything. And if I blow them? That's it."

"There's nothing you dream about?"

Jared laughs. "There's a shitload I dream about. I just don't know which three wishes are going to get me the best results."

"What do you want most?"

"I—my job. I hate my job. I work at this huge company because I keep hoping one day I'll get my big break and finally get promoted and get to do what I went to school for. Which is business management. And I'm good at it, too, okay? It's just an awful job market, so I took the only job I could get, and now I sit and answer phones and fix people's computers all day and watch jerks who know nothing getting the jobs I should get because they know someone and I don't and it's the most frustrating existence on the—"

Jared turns to see that Jensen has again transformed himself. Now he's an Occupy Wall Street picket sign, only a picket sign with big green eyes and freckles.

Jared cracks up. "Okay. Point taken. I'm a little ranty. But it's annoying."

Jensen changes back. He's got a huge smile on his face. Clearly he's really amusing himself.

He's amusing Jared, too. "Did you know you have freckles no matter what you turn into? It's kind of hilarious."

Jensen narrows his eyes. "Yeah, I know. You think I wouldn't get rid of them if I could help it?"

Jared decides from the look on Jensen's face that now is not the time to tell him how pretty they make him look. "So what do you think about my wish?"

"You want more money." Jensen pretends to yawn. "Just name how much and let's get this over with."

Jared shakes his head. "No, I don't want the money. I don't even want the job. Just help me get noticed. I swear I can do the job on my own."

Jensen shrugs. "All right. That's new, but all right."

"Plus. Once I've been promoted—" Jared leans across the table. "There's this girl."

Jensen makes a buzzer sound. "Remember what I said earlier? I am not Cupid."

"No, I don't want you to make her fall in love with me. Believe it or not, I have some charms of my own."

Jensen looks him over, then nods slowly. "I believe it."

"I just need her to know who I am."

Jensen snorts. "You want me to help you get the girl. Yup. I've never heard this one before, either."

"Maybe, but never a girl like this. She's just—she's way out of my league, Jensen. She's the damn CEO's daughter." Jared sighs. "But she's something else."

"Oh yeah?"

"She's a goddess. She's funny and smart and, man, when she laughs, her smile is like. Wow."

Jensen lifts an eyebrow. "How do you know all that if you haven't ever talked to her long enough to get her attention?"

"We got trapped in an elevator together once. For two hours, we were in there, and I was trying to fix it, and we were talking, and she was all impressed I knew what I was doing with the wires." Jared sighs. "We really hit it off. I was gonna ask her to dinner, but as soon as we got out of the elevator, there's freaking Jeffrey Dean Morgan waiting for her, all concerned and telling her her Dad's been worried."

"Who is this Jeffrey Dean Morgan character? Is that her dad?"

"Nah. He's the second in command. Everyone says he runs the company because Mr. Cortese is actually useless. I think he's trying to date Genevieve. He's a dick, and I hate him."

Jensen laughs. "Lovely."

"Dude. Help me out here. I am an idiot in love."

"Yes, I can see that." Jensen clucks his tongue. "Well, you're the boss. Just say the words, and I will try to help you win fair Genevieve's hand."

"I wish for a promotion?" Jared says. Nothing exciting happens. "Is that all? Do I have to do something else?"

Jensen laughs. "Not yet. But you should get to bed. You seem tired, and I'm pretty sure you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

Jared smiles. "Okay. Cool. I'll just do the dishes and—"

Jensen shakes his head. "I've got the dishes. You go to bed."

"You don't have to do that. I'm not blowing a wish on some dishes."

"I'm your genie. I'm supposed to get rid of all the minor inconveniences in your life. I won't charge you for it." Jensen points toward Jared's bedroom, a stern look on his face. "Now get to bed."

Having a genie is awesome.

The next morning, Jared awakens thinking, 'my, what a strange dream I had last night.' At least until he walks out of his room, into his living room, and finds the giant bong-lamp on his couch, his house unnaturally clean, and a glorious stack of pancakes on his table.

"Whoa," Jared says.

"Good morning," comes a voice Jared remembers as belonging to his genie, whom he apparently actually has and did not just dream or hallucinate.

"I'll say." Jared grins at him, hurrying toward his breakfast.

Jensen doesn't say anything as Jared takes his seat and starts wolfing down hotcakes. He just smiles warmly and watches Jared eat.

"What?" Jared asks when he's halfway through his stack and Jensen still hasn't looked away. "Why are you staring at me?"

"You appreciate good food," Jensen says. "I like that."

"You like me, you mean?" Jared says, batting his eyes.

Jensen shakes his head, walking across the room. "I make it a rule not to like my masters. But you seem acceptable enough."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Jensen sticks his tongue out and goes back to waving his hands at Jared's apartment. Jared watches as things rearrange themselves, start to look polished and shiny and new. He could really get used to this.

He finishes his breakfast, taking his plate halfway to the kitchen sink before Jensen hears him, turns, and zaps everything out of his hands. "No cleaning," he snaps. "You're bad at it, anyway, if the state of this house is anything to go by."

"That's hurtful," Jared says, padding by him on his way back to his room. "I'll go shower and put a shirt on, I guess."

Jensen looks over for only a second, his eyes roaming down, and then they snap back up to Jared's and he licks his lips. "Good idea."

Jared's drive to work is relatively uneventful. There's less traffic than usual, but Jared's not sure if that's just good luck or if it has something to do with the little hula dancer doll sitting on his dashboard.

"You know you still have freckles, right?"

Jared is pretty sure the hula girl looks up to glare at him through green eyes as he gets out of the car.

Nothing miraculous happens at work. For the first hour or so it's one of his usual shitty mornings, and then he goes to get coffee and everything changes.

One of the top execs, Jared's pretty sure his name is Misha, is in the break room talking to someone Jared doesn't recognize. He's complaining about a shipping emergency in Boston, and Jared's not trying to eavesdrop, except for how he totally is.

They're stumped, and Jared's not sure how, because the solution is fairly obvious. Normally he would just walk by and keep his ideas to himself. But for some reason today he stops on his way out, stirring his sugar into his coffee, and calmly explains it to Misha and the other guy. Misha stares at him, his mouth hanging open, and says nothing for so long that Jared shrugs and turns to leave.

"Wait," he hears behind him, so he pauses. "What's your name?"

"Jared," Jared replies. "Padalecki."

"Padalecki." Misha nods slowly. "You work in IT?"

Jared glances down at his bright yellow uniform shirt, then back up at Misha, and somehow resists the urge to say duh. "Yes, sir."

"Okay," Misha replies. "See you around, Jared."

And that's that. At least until Jared gets back from his lunch break, and there's Misha standing by his desk, along with Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and freaking Frank Cortese. Jared's pretty sure he's about to be very publicly fired for talking down to an exec or something, and he'd bet good money Misha's still going to take credit for his idea.

Jensen, Jared decides, is kind of bad at his job.

"This is him, Mr. Cortese."

Frank nods, his eyes focused on Jared. "Mr. Padalecki, was it?"

Jared nods.

"Please follow me."

Jared does so, his heart in his throat as he and the other three men get in an elevator and ride up to the top floor. No one says anything for the entire ride, not until they get to Misha's office and Misha ushers them all in and closes the door.

"This is the guy with the plan," Misha says.

Frank looks over at him, eyes bright, and Jeffrey is glaring daggers.

"Misha ran the idea you gave him this morning past us at our meeting earlier," Frank says. "I told him that if we had a genius like you sitting down there fixing our printers, he'd better prove it."

He holds out a hand, and Jared takes it, completely dazed by what the guy just said. Holy shit. This is actually real.

"We need more thinkers like you in this company," Frank continues. "I'd like to make sure you have a future here. We can't lose you to our competitors, now can we?"

"Uh. No, sir," Jared replies, smiling just a little.

"Now I can’t make any promises yet, but I can tell you that Misha already called the shipping company and proposed the changes you suggested. They not only approved them, it turns out they'll cut back on a third of what we've been paying them. Jeff's going to arrange that we take the same strategy with all our branches."

Jeffrey's glare somehow gets more venomous, and Jared kind of wants to dance. He manages to resist the urge.

Frank claps him on the back. "So, Jared, do you have any plans on Friday night? We’re hosting a very private party, and I'd like you to be there."

Jensen's not so bad at his job after all.

There's a wolf whistle from the doorway, and Jared jumps a little. He's not completely comfortable in his skin right now.

"I look stupid," he says, turning to face Jensen. "Right? I do, I look stupid."

Jensen laughs, stepping forward and reaching a hand out like he's going to fix Jared's tie, then shaking his head and snapping his fingers to do it instead. "You look great."

"This suit is cheap," Jared says. "I only own cheap things."

Jensen laughs. "I've made princes," he says. "You think I can't get you a decent suit?"

Jared looks back to the mirror, and suddenly he's in a slick designer suit that he's pretty sure costs more than his parent's house. "Jesus."

He can see Jensen's reflection, standing behind him with a smile on his face. "Now you look really great."

"I look like a million bucks," Jared says, turning. "Am I wearing a million dollar suit right now, Jensen? Because I can't handle that kind of pressure."

"You're by far the most ridiculous master I've ever had," Jensen says warmly. "What should we do about that hair? I don't know if anything can be done about that hair."

Jared's eyebrows draw together. "What's wrong with my hair? My hair is, like, my best feature."

Jensen makes an unconvinced sound in the back of his throat before snapping his fingers, and Jared's hair is a little tamer when he turns back to the mirror. It looks much better. Not that he's about to admit that out loud.

"You ready to party, Mr. Executive?"

"I'm still an IT guy," Jared answers.

Jensen smiles slowly. "Not for long," he promises. "Now get going."

"Do I get a limo?" Jared asks.

"Keep dreaming," Jensen replies.

Jared laughs. "All right. Don't wait up for me."

To his half-delighted, half-terrified surprise, Mr. Cortese puts an arm around Jared's shoulder almost as soon as he walks through the door and immediately starts dragging him around and introducing him to people. Jared tries to remember all the names and faces, but most of them don't stick. It doesn't matter. What matters is the way everyone's eyes light up and they treat him like he's worth meeting, just because Frank is giving him the time of day.

Jared is not used to being respected.

"Now, Jared, there's just one more person I want you to meet," Mr. Cortese tells him. It's been over two hours of getting dragged around and Jared is doing his best to hide how much his palms are starting to itch. But one more person he can do, and maybe then he can just go home and crash. "My daughter Genevieve is around here somewhere," he says. "She's around your age, you know. And single. Studying at NYU right now, she's a very bright girl. Pretty, too, if I'm allowed to say as much. I think you two will really get along."

Jared's heart does that explosive pounding thing as soon as Frank even mentions Genevieve, and he nearly faints when he realizes exactly what is going on here. Frank Cortese is trying to set Jared up with his daughter. His daughter who Jared has spent the last six months stupidly in love with.

It's gonna be a really great night if Jared gets through it alive.

"Ah, there you are," Frank says, coming up behind Jeffrey. Jared is nothing but disappointed until Jeffrey turns and reveals Genevieve, a bored look on her face. She's wearing a strapless green dress that's tight on her body and flows all the way to the floor, and God, Jared doesn't even want to blink, she's so beautiful.

Her eyes light up when she sees him. Her eyes light up like she recognizes him, and not only that, like she _likes_ that she recognizes him.

"Jared!" she says.

"You know each other? Well, Jared, I see that you're a man of many secrets," Frank says. He turns to Jared and gives him a fond wink, as if they've known each other for years.

"Ah, Jared," Jeffrey says, still looking like he's got his underwear in a twist. "Padabooboo, right?"

"Padalecki," Jared, Genevieve, and Frank all correct at once.

She knows his name. She knows his _name_.

"Padalecki. Of course," Jeffrey says.

"Jeff, why don't we talk business and leave these kids alone for a while?" Frank asks, tugging excitedly on Jeffrey's suit.

"But I was just explaining to Genevieve how—"

"No, really," Genevieve says, smiling sweetly. "I don't want to interfere with business." She grabs Jared's arm and pulls him closer. "I'll just dance a song or two with Jared, if he doesn’t mind, and we can pick up our conversation later."

Grudgingly, Jeffrey nods. Genevieve watches them retreat, her smile dropping as soon as they're out of sight. "Christ, that guy is so skeevy."

Jared laughs. "Is he? I never noticed."

"I swear, all hands." She smiles, lifting her palms and wiggling her fingers suggestively. "And he's just so old."

"He's not that old," says Jared.

Genevieve rolls her eyes. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," he answers immediately. "Always."

Genevieve grins. "I didn't ever think I'd get to see you again."

"Did you want to?"

"Yes," she says, biting her bottom lip. "Very much."

Jared doesn't do a fist pump, but it's a near thing.

"Anyway, you rescued me from Jeff. I think that gets you a dance." Her smiles turns a little shy, which is a really, really good look on her. Like everything. "Assuming you want one."

Jared doesn't dignify that with a response, just drags her onto the dance floor with a quick warning about the fact that he's possibly the worst dancer ever. Genevieve laughs and suffers through it, and after a few songs are up, she pulls away from Jared.

"Jeff is probably going to come looking for me soon," she says. "I don't imagine you want to join me while I hide from him on the balcony?"

"Definitely," Jared says, hoping his smile doesn't look too goofy. "He really likes you, huh?"

"Hah," Genevieve replies, almost making a quacking noise. "He thinks that if he marries me my dad will just hand over the company."

"That's a silly thing to think."

Genevieve shrugs. "He's probably right. Daddy doesn't enjoy business so much. All he wants to do is sail his yacht around the world and drag my mother along for the ride." Genevieve smirks, rolling her eyes and looking fond at the same time. "He thinks it's romantic."

"It sounds romantic."

Genevieve smiles. "They're kind of disgustingly cute, my parents."

"Mine too," Jared answers. "Always dreamed of having something like that."

"Oh, lord," Genevieve says.

Jared laughs. "I'm serious!"

Genevieve lifts an eyebrow. "The sad thing is I believe you."

They get outside, and Genevieve takes Jared's hand. "Come on, I like to hide around here. They usually don't come looking for me until the party's over."

Genevieve leads him to a bench tucked away behind a hedge, and they sit and talk for what could be hours or seconds. It feels like forever and it's not long enough, and Genevieve is still clever and funny and she asks Jared all kinds of questions about computers, faking interest in his crappy job remarkably well.

"That's a really nice dress," Jared says as soon as there's a lull in the conversation.

Genevieve glances down at it. "Green," she says. "The color of money. Everyone in there's," she inclines her head toward the sound of music and chatter from the party, "favorite color."

Jared doesn't know why, but for a moment, he thinks of Jensen's eyes. "That's not why I like it."

"Well, why do you like it?" she asks in a teasing voice.

"Because you're wearing it," Jared answers. He leans in, and she leans in, and he's pretty sure he is actually about to get to kiss her.

"Genny."

Jared and Genevieve pull apart, both turning toward the voice. There's an older woman with dyed blonde hair poking her head around the hedge. "The party is almost over, sweetheart, come say goodnight—" Then her eyes dart over to Jared and she giggles. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry to interrupt. You must be Jared."

Jared nods, raising one hand in a small wave. Genevieve makes a face at him that the woman can't see, then pastes on a smile and turns to her. "Coming right away, Mother."

She turns back to Jared with a longing glance and sighs. "It was great talking," she says.

"Yeah," Jared agrees, watching her stand.

"We should talk more. Again. Sometime. Soon."

"We should," Jared agrees.

Genevieve's mother puts a hand on her arm and starts tugging, and Genevieve lets herself be led, but she keeps turning back to look at Jared.

He doesn't actually realize that was when he was supposed to ask her out until he's driving home.

The house is empty when he first enters, but it's only a second or two before green smoke starts to filter out of the top of Jensen's lamp.

Jensen is grinning once he materializes. "Back already?"

"Mmm," Jared replies, closing his eyes and nodding and stumbling a little as he steps forward.

"Are you drunk?" Jensen asks, his lips turning down.

Jared's eyes open very quickly. "On love, maybe."

"You are so drunk," Jensen says, shaking his head. "You shouldn't have driven like that. I should have come with you. I could have gotten you home without—"

"I'm not drunk, Jen." Jared smirks. "Though I really appreciate your concern."

Jensen rolls his eyes.

"I'm just exhausted," he continues.

"Tired out from all the back-breaking sex you've had tonight thanks to me?" Jensen asks, his expression turning wicked.

Jared laughs. "No back-breaking sex," he says. "Just a lot of talking."

"Fair enough." Jensen crosses his arms over his chest. "Did you at least kiss her?"

"No." Jensen's expression falls. "I got so close, though!"

Jensen sighs. "Well, when are you seeing her next?"

"Err," Jared replies. "I'm not actually sure."

"You didn't ask her out? Get her number? Her email address? Twitter name thingie?"

"How do you even know what Twitter is? Do you get Wi-Fi in there?" Jared looks past Jensen at the lamp, which is still sitting on his couch looking like a bong.

"One: I live in a fucking lamp, I have a lot of time on my hands." Jensen snaps his fingers in front of Jared's face to get his attention. "Two: quit changing the subject!"

"I'm not changing the subject," says Jared. "There's just not much to tell. We were talking and I lost track of time and then we were going to kiss and got distracted and then she gave me the signal—Jensen, she totally gave me the signal. But I was, I dunno, too out of it to realize that was it until later."

Jensen snorts. "You're hopeless, kid."

"Or I was," Jared says through a yawn, "until I got my trusty geniesen."

"I'm going to chalk that up to you being tired and hope you never say it again."

Jared finishes his yawn and grins at Jensen.

"Come on. You really do look beat."

Jared nods, and somehow he's wearing a cotton t shirt and his favorite pajama bottoms by the time he's reached the door to his room. His mouth tastes like toothpaste.

"How did—?" Jared gets interrupted by another yawn, and Jensen laughs quietly, watching Jared lie down before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Good night, Jared," he says, and then he reaches out to brush hair out of Jared's face. Jared doesn't feel the touch, but he does feel the warm rush of magic that washes over him, and he's asleep in seconds.

He's out for a solid nine hours, and it's probably the best sleep of his life. He doesn't remember his dreams the next morning, just remembers little flashes of Genevieve and dancing and what might have happened if he'd just kissed her.

Saturday morning begins with Cinderella.

No, really. Jared stumbles out into his living room and is greeted by the last chorus of 'Bippidi Bobbidi Boo.' Jensen is sitting on the loveseat, watching it with a scowl on his face, as if it's really serious television.

"If you're watching to find out if she dies, I'll spoil the end for you now. There's nothing to worry about."

Jensen sits up as soon as he hears Jared, waves his hand at the television and it turns off. "I hate that movie."

Jared laughs. "Then why were you watching it?"

"I was channel surfing. I was bored." He gives Jared a pointed look. " _You_ were oversleeping."

"It's Saturday. That's what Saturdays are for."

"Well, Saturday morning TV sucks," Jensen replies bitterly.

"You suck."

Jensen laughs a little, but then he shakes his head. "Cinderella sucks."

"What did she ever do to you?" Jared asks as he plops onto the couch.

"It's just…" Jensen shifts, his face scrunched up, like he's not sure how to phrase what he's about to say. "Did it ever occur to anyone to ask the fairy godmother what she wants?"

Jared blinks and Jensen continues, "No. Of course not. She just exists to make everyone else's problems go away, right?"

"I guess—"

"You don't think she has a ball she wants to go to? Huh?"

Jared opens his mouth to reply again, but Jensen steamrolls right over him. "Instead she's grown old making other people's dreams come true and—what the hell makes Cinderella so fucking special?"

He looks at Jared then, and Jared wants nothing more than to disappear. There's really no way not to feel guilty.

Then Jensen's face clouds over, all the anger's replaced by resignation, and somehow that's only worse. "Sorry," he grumbles. "I just really hate that movie."

"I'm sorry, Jensen."

Jensen's eyebrows draw together. "You're sorry?"

"It must be terrible. Being a genie, I mean. Or a fairy godmother, apparently."

Jensen's expression softens. "You're a decent guy, Jared," he says. "It's not so bad when the person's decent."

"Still," Jared replies.

"Yeah," says Jensen. "Still. It'd be nice to…" He looks up, meets Jared eyes. "Fuck, never mind."

"No, what?" Jared sits forward. "Tell me."

"I shouldn't be saying any of this to you. You're my master; I'm supposed to put you at ease, not whine to you about my problems."

"I can be your friend, too, though. Right? Is there a rule against that?"

"My rules," Jensen says. "I'm not supposed to like you."

"But you do, 'cause I'm so awesome."

Jensen just laughs at him.

"Jen, how did this happen to you?" Jared asks. "I know you said you didn't wanna talk about it, but—"

"I was a servant. I was a palace servant, and I even liked it. It was secure, you know? I got to take care of people. And then I fell in love with a prince, and it was perfect, it was like a fairy tale. Like Cinderella, maybe."

"Only you didn't get invited to the ball?"

Jensen gives Jared a lopsided smile. "His mom caught us together."

"Whoa. Awkward."

"Way awkward," Jensen agrees. "And Her Majesty didn't like her precious little boy screwing the help, so." He shrugs. "She went to one of the priests in her temple and explained the problem, and it turns out he knew a little magic, so he went ahead and turned me into the kind of servant that cannot be screwed."

Jared frowns. "Wow, that's awful. What did the prince do?"

"The prince?" Jensen asks, looking up sharply. "He made three wishes, went down in history as great, and I got traded for a big chunk of the Nile."

"Wait, you don't mean Alexander the…?"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Please don't sound so impressed. He was a spoiled brat who knew how to use wishes well. He wasn't even that good in bed."

"Nuh uh," Jared says. "Dude, no way he did that. No way _anyone_ would do that."

Jensen laughs, but it rings hollow. "That's people for you."

"That's disgusting is what that is."

"It's what anyone would have done, Jared."

"I wouldn't. I don't believe it. You wouldn't, either."

"No, I wouldn't have. I was in love." Jensen scoffs. "And clearly very stupid."

"That's not stupid," Jared replies.

Jensen frowns. "Shit, I'm sorry. Look, I'm sure love is great and wonderful and you and Genevieve will be very happy together."

"You don't sound convinced."

"That's because I'm lying." Jensen looks away. "I've been around a long time. I've seen a lot of things. Love isn't on the list."

"You've been seeing the worst in people," Jared argues. "Wishes maybe make people greedy, but—"

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "But?"

"But there's a lot of good out there you haven't seen."

"Talk to me in a thousand years, Jared."

Jared shakes his head and Jensen laughs.

"I don't know why I told you that. I've never told a master any of that." Jensen looks away. "You're very easy to talk to. It's a problem."

"I like to think it's one of my best qualities," Jared replies with a grin.

"It is. Just not for me."

"I like talking to you, too," Jared says. "If that makes it any better."

"You're the first. Most masters just want to get their wishes and boss me around."

"Well, I wanna talk to you. And get my wishes and boss you around, of course."

Jensen laughs. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"I dunno," Jared replies with a shrug. "What do you want?"

Jensen sits back, looking confused. "What do I want?"

"Yeah," he says. "I'm guessing it's not to go to a ball. So what would you wish for if you could make a wish?"

"It doesn't matter." Jensen scratches his cheek. "It's stupid anyway."

"Tell me," Jared pleads, trying to make the face he used to pull to get his mom to let him stay home from school.

"Freedom," Jensen says quietly. "I would wish for freedom."

"Why would that be stupid?" Jared replies.

"Because it's never going to happen." Jensen lifts his right hand where there's a golden bracelet tight around his wrist. "I'd have to get this off."

Jared snorts. "Seriously? Dude, you can do magic! Just zap it or whatever."

Jensen smiles weakly. "There's only one way to get it off."

Jared nods slowly. "Of course. Lasers from an alien spacecraft. I should have known."

"My master has to wish for my freedom."

Jared smiles. "Oh! Well why didn't you say so sooner?"

"Because there's no point?"

"I'll wish you free!" Jared says. "Least I can do, right? How about after I use my second wish? That way I get all three, and the last one means you never have to grant another wish again."

"Sure," Jensen says. He doesn't look at Jared. He doesn't sound particularly excited about it, either.

"What's wrong?" Jared asks. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"I've heard that promise more times than I can count," Jensen says, lifting his hand again. "Still here."

"You don't believe me?" Jared shrugs. "I'm gonna prove you wrong. Wrong about people, wrong about love, and wrong about me. Just gotta get Genevieve first."

He frowns, looking up at Jared. "You know, I almost do believe you."

Jared is halfway to reaching out to him, to give him a sympathetic pat on the thigh, maybe, but then he remembers there's no point. Jensen won't feel it.

He smiles instead, a little forced, and stands up to get some cereal out of the kitchen. "Hey, want to stay in all day like bums? Maybe watch some TV? I mean, not children's movies that piss you off, of course."

"Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo doesn't even mean anything," Jensen mutters as Jared's walking away.

There's already a bowl of cereal sitting on the counter when Jared gets to the kitchen, and he hears a laugh from the living room. "You could have just asked," Jensen calls out. "Saved yourself the trip."

Jared comes back out with the cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. "I'm gonna get fat eating all this food you make me if I don't even walk across the house to get it."

Jensen smirks. "My evil plan unveiled."

Jared mirrors the smirk right back at Jensen and digs into his breakfast. "So tell me something," he says before shoveling the first spoonful into his mouth.

Jensen relaxes back into his seat. "Tell you what?"

Jared shrugs. "Anything. You've been around for a thousand years, right?"

"Lot longer than that," Jensen confirms.

"So you've got to have some good gossip then, right?"

Jensen looks speculative for a few seconds, then a slow smile curls his lips. "Let me tell you about that halfwit Shakespeare," he says, and Jared pretty much doesn't stop laughing for the rest of the day.

He calls for a pizza at around seven when he realizes he hasn't had anything (or really moved at all) since breakfast, and they turn the TV back on.

"I could have gotten you that exact same pizza without the wait or delivery charge," Jensen grumbles.

"Yes, you're very impressive," Jared says, dropping the box on the coffee table. "But, like I said, no magic tonight."

Jensen bites his bottom lip, still looking unsure, then shrugs. "I'm sure you're sick of hearing me talk by now," he says, and Jared resists the urge to argue. "I want to hear more about how you fucked up last night."

Jared bunches up one of the napkins he's got next to him and throws it at Jensen. He feels a little sorry when it passes right through him, but Jensen laughs. Jared tells him the whole thing, from Jeffrey's obvious jealousy to the interrupted kiss to the rather embarrassing part when Genevieve was practically throwing herself at him and he just didn't notice.

"Let me get this straight," Jensen says. "You spent the whole night ranting at her about motherboards—"

"She kept asking! I didn't know what to do!"

"And she somehow still wanted to see you again at the end of it. And you just missed the flashing neon sign? Seriously, Jared? Do I have to do everything around here?"

"I called for the pizza," Jared says through a full mouth.

Jensen snorts. "You'd better not blow it again on your next date with her."

"But I don't have a next date with her, Jensen," Jared says. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"Uh huh," Jensen replies. "You might want to swallow that before you answer the phone."

Jared's eyebrows draw together in confusion. His phone isn't ringing. Then he swallows, and a second later it starts buzzing. He doesn't recognize the number, but he answers anyway.

"Hello?"

"Jared? Hi, this is Gen. Cortese."

His eyes widen. He looks over at Jensen, who smiles and nods encouragingly. "Genevieve! What's, uh, what's going on?"

"Nothing much," she pauses for a bit, then continues, "well, I was thinking about you today. And I'm not sure if you really wanted to see me again or if you were just being nice, but I found your number sitting on my Dad's desk and it felt like fate or something, so I figured, what the hell, I'll take the plunge. Uh, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Yes." Jared smacks his hand to his forehead. "I mean no. Well, yeah, kinda, but it's cute. Wait. Let me start that over. I would love to see you again."

"Yeah?" She sounds both happy and surprised and Jared doesn't know which of those things makes less sense to him. "My father's having a dinner party tomorrow. It won't be anything big like that party last night, just ten or fifteen people. Anyway, my point is, I was wondering if you would like to maybe come. As, like, my date."

"Seriously?"

"No, I called to ask and then hang up on you."

Jared rolls his eyes at himself. "I'd really like that."

Genevieve gives Jared the rest of the details, and he hangs up, taking a few seconds to just blink and try to really believe it.

"She asked me out," he says.

Jensen smiles. "Imagine that."

"Did you make her?" Jared asks, his smile slipping.

"No, sir," Jensen says, making an innocent face and raising his hand in the Boy Scout salute. "I might have put your phone number out where she would find it."

"You're awesome," Jared says, standing to whoop. "This is so awesome."

"Slow down there, peppy. We've gotta do something about your way with women, or I'm never getting rid of you."

Jared's about to ask, when suddenly there's a puff of yellow smoke, and there's Genevieve sitting on his loveseat. Jared takes the spot next to her, his eyes scanning over her face quickly, and then he laughs. "Wow. Gen would look awful with freckles."

Jensen glares. "Don't push your luck, asshole. This is not my idea of fun."

"That wasn't very ladylike."

"Bite me," Jensen replies. "You know the drill. You pretend I'm her. Talk to me like I'm her. I'll tell you when you're fucking up."

Jared can't resist. "You mean like in Shakespeare?"

Jensen huffs. "I told you that was my idea!"

"I can't do this, man. It's too weird. You still sound like Jensen!"

"I am Jensen, you moron."

"Yeah, but it'd be easier to pretend otherwise if you didn't sound like—ow."

Gensenivieve grins. "Pay attention."

"That hurt," Jared says, rubbing his arm where Jensen zapped him.

"It was a love zap," says Jensen. "Now tell me how pretty I look."

"You look like something pretty colored by a small child who failed to stay inside the lin—dammit, stop that."

"Focus!"

"Hi, Genevieve." Jared feels pretty foolish, but, well. He did kind of blow yesterday astronomically, so maybe Jensen has a point here. "I'm really glad to see you."

"You too," Jensen replies. They have a conversation from there—it starts off a little shaky but it gets better as they go. Jensen actually gives Jared some good advice, and he's feeling better about the whole thing by the time he's ready to quit and go to bed.

"I love her so much," Jared says.

"Who?" asks Jensen. "You got another lady I don't know about?"

Jared winces. "Right. Sorry. I meant I love you."

Jensen smiles softly, but then he shakes his head. "Coming on a little too strong for a first date, Jay," he says. "How about just a compliment. Or a kiss."

Jared leans in, and suddenly there's a big cloud of angry green smoke. When things clear enough for Jared to see, Jensen's on the other side of the room, looking like himself again. "What the fuck?"

"You said kiss," says Jared, completely lost. "I was going in for a kiss."

"You can't try to kiss me," he says, scowling. "There's only so much of this crap I'll take."

"It was your idea though?" Jared lets out a shaky laugh. "It's not like I could have kissed you, anyway."

Jensen's frown only deepens. He shakes his head and sighs, like Jared's a complete moron and disappears into his lamp. Jared falls asleep thinking Jensen must be right about the moron thing, because he still has no idea what he did wrong.

"How do you feel about children?"

Jared jumps, taken off guard by the question, and tries to school his expression before he turns his attention back to Mr. Cortese. "Um," he says. "I love them?"

Frank pats Jared on the back, a wide smile taking over his features, so Jared is pretty sure he gave the right answer. "That's just fantastic, son. Just fantastic."

His arm is still slung over Jared's shoulder—an awkward angle considering he's about half a foot shorter—and he tugs Jared along. They've been on a tour of his art collection for the last forty minutes while Genevieve finishes dressing, the guests continue to arrive, and the housekeeper withholds permission for anyone to enter the dining room.

It's good art and all, impressive even, but Jared's attention is not on it, and the only thing keeping his mind from wandering completely is Jensen popping in and out of the paintings while Mr. Cortese isn't looking and making faces at Jared, then freezing as if he was painted into the piece the whole time. Frank hasn't noticed yet, and Jared is hardly containing his laughter.

They haven't talked since Jensen stormed away yesterday, but Jared is pretty sure he's not mad anymore.

Frank stops in the middle of the hallway, turning to Jared. "Wouldn’t you agree?"

Oh, right. He's been talking. Shit. Jensen is too damn distracting. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?"

Jared winces, but Genevieve's dad just laughs and slaps him on the shoulder. "Now, don't be nervous. It's not a test. I'm just making conversation."

"Right," Jared replies, not sure where to go from there.

Luckily, Frank continues, "By the time I was your age, my wife was already pregnant with Genevieve."

"Oh," Jared says. He wonders if this has any connection to Frank asking him about kids earlier, and his stomach turns just a bit. "That's—"

"Gen is a lovely girl, but she's very hard to please. Her mother and I just want her to be happy, of course, but it's been tough. Not that she's tough, obviously that's not what I meant. She just doesn't like very many of the gentlemen we introduce her to. She likes you, though. I can tell just by looking at her."

"That's really great," Jared says. "For me, at least. I really like her, too."

Frank smiles and nods, picking back up on the tour. "That's why I'm so pleased to see you kids hitting it off so well. I liked you right away. I'm a big believer in first impressions, Jared. Some people, they overthink things. I've always gone with my gut, and that's why I've been so successful."

Jared nods. He has no fucking idea what conversation he's having, but it's making him sweat. More than usual.

"And, now, I don't want to try to influence you in any way, but just keep in mind that you and Genevieve are a great match. And great matches make great marriages." Frank coughs, clearing his throat loudly. There's just no subtlety about any of this. "And great marriages make for happy kids."

"Can't argue with that logic," Jared lies. He throws a nervous glance down the hall, wondering how much longer it can possibly take to make dinner. Maybe he should ask a question about the art or something. All this pressure is making Jared want to run and hide, before Genevieve comes out and Jared disappoints her.

"You probably wouldn't expect it looking around, but I'm a simple man. I don't want much. But I'll tell you what I want more than anything, I want a big family. Grandchildren." Frank grins. "Did I mention that I feel like you're family already, Jared? I've always wanted to keep my company in the family. Not that Jeffrey doesn't do a great job, but he's never been a part of the family, and I'm a family-oriented guy."

"Dinner is served," says a tall, thin guy with black hair and a neatly pressed tux.

"Of course," Frank says. "We'll be right there."

The man nods, turning quickly and disappearing around the corner he appeared from. Mr. Cortese looks back to Jared, meeting his eyes one last time. His expression is all weighty and intimidating. "I hope we're on the same page here," he says. "And that you'll give this conversation some serious thought."

Jared says nothing as he follows Frank to the dining room. He's pretty sure he just got his two biggest dreams, Genevieve and her father's company, offered to him on a silver platter, and instead of thrilled, he just feels oddly dirty.

Genevieve's foot brushes against Jared's no less than five times during dinner. He knows because he shoots up in his seat every time, as if she's electrocuting him. She smiles when he looks over, but he keeps pulling away instead of responding the way he knows he should, and the smile slips quickly.

She pulls him out to the garden after dinner, and they walk hand-in-hand until they reach a bench. Then she stops and sits on it, pulling Jared down with her.

"Okay," she says. "What did I do?"

"What do you mean?" Jared asks.

Genevieve raises an eyebrow at him. "Two days ago, you were obviously into me. Completely worthless at making a move, but you were into me. Or pretending to be."

"I'm still into you," he says.

"Then why do you look like you've seen a ghost? And why are you talking to me like, I don't know. Like one of the boring stiffs my dad brings over to try to marry me off to."

Jared swallows, looks away. To his surprise, Genevieve laughs.

"Oh god. He got to you, didn't he?"

Jared turns back. "Huh?"

She shakes her head. "Look, I'm sorry about him. He means well, I swear." She rolls her eyes. "He's just desperate to marry me off and, I'm pretty sure, half-convinced I'm going to be an old maid."

Jared lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "You mean he's done that before?"

"Constantly."

"So you're not—?"

"Expecting you to propose and knock me up within the next three hours?"

Jared laughs slightly, but he's not completely kidding when he nods. "Yeah, that."

Genevieve shakes her head. "I like you and all, Jared. In fact, I really like you. But I'm not trying to rush into anything."

"Thank god," says Jared. "Dude, he really scared me."

"I could tell," Genevieve replies, bumping her shoulder against Jared's. "You looked like you wanted to run away that whole meal."

"That's because I did." Jared realizes how wrong that came out. "Not that the idea of marrying you is terrifying or anything! I'm sure it would be wonderful."

"Just not right away," Genevieve says.

"Just not right away," Jared agrees.

She grins, wraps her fingers around Jared's tie, and tugs him in for a kiss. It's brief, just long enough to tease him with the taste of her lip balm. "So what do you want right away?"

Jared shrugs, mentally checking himself before his eyes wander to the deep cut of the top she's wearing. "Just your company."

Genevieve laughs, pulling him in for another kiss, holding the back of his head as she deepens it. This one lasts much longer, and Jared relaxes into it happily. Then she pulls away and gives him a mischievous smile. "I want a little more than that," she whispers, leaning in so her lips brush the shell of his ear.

Jared's dick is listening. "And just what do you have in mind?"

"My room," she says, pausing to point, "is that one right over there. Two windows over from the one with the light on." Her hands find Jared's and she gives them a squeeze. "I'm not supposed to entertain men in my room, but I've learned over the years that the trellis on the side there is sturdy enough to hold quite a lot of weight."

Jared coughs. "Do you mean you want me to—?"

"Only if you want," Genevieve says. "I mean, if you're bored or something."

"That's so—"

"Romeo and Juliet?" Genevieve says, her tone clearly mocking. "Look, I just want to get laid."

Jared laughs, taken off guard. "Well, that was direct."

"Trying to be suave didn't really get my point across last time."

Jared laughs, scratching his forehead with his thumb. He knows Jensen is around here somewhere, pretending to be a flower or a pebble or something, and he's pretty sure the genie is silently laughing at him. Agreeing with Genevieve. They're both kind of assholes, Jared decides, and that's kind of his favorite thing about both of them.

"After I leave, then?"

Genevieve nods, biting her bottom lip and leaning back in for a kiss. "Good thing you came in a cab, huh?"

Jared opens his mouth, then remembers he was magically transported here by his genie friend, and closes it again. Maybe he'd better just let the cab assumption slide. The point is that Jared doesn't have a car to hide, and that means he's really going to get to do this.

They make out for a while longer, breaking in with jokes every now and again, until someone calls out that it's dessert time, and they drag their feet back to the house. It's another hour before everyone says their goodnights, and Jared's thrumming with too much excitement to contain.

"Is she everything I said and more?" Jared asks, his eyes fixed on the moon. It's full. Romantic. He heaves a sigh. "Isn't she perfect?"

Beside him, Jensen materializes, and the bee that had been circling around Jared's head disappears. Jensen drops down onto the bench Jared had been sitting on with Genevieve an hour earlier and smiles weakly. "No, yeah," he says quietly. "She's great."

Jared stops, turns away from the moon to look at his friend. "What? What's that tone about? You don't like her?"

"I do," says Jensen. "She's snarky. She'll keep your ass in line."

"And she likes sex!"

Jensen laughs under his breath. "You're a really lucky guy."

"Only because of you," Jared replies, taking the empty spot next to Jensen. "Man, this is really happening, huh?"

"In twenty minutes," Jensen says. "In case you were wondering since you last checked the time. Thirty seconds ago."

Jared feels himself blush, lets go of his phone in his pocket without bringing it out and glancing at the clock. "Okay, so I'm a little excited."

Jensen laughs again, but it sounds off, and his smile hardly lasts a second. "Hey, I'm gonna go ahead and leave. Give you guys a little privacy," he says. "If you need me again, I'll know, but otherwise, I really don't want to—"

"It's gonna be quite a show," Jared says, winking lewdly. Jensen rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he disappears.

"Jared?"

Jared turns his head toward the whisper, sees Genevieve sticking her head out of her window. "Hey!"

"Are you talking to yourself?"

"Uh," Jared answers. "You look really pretty."

Genevieve snorts. "You're like 15 minutes early, but the coast is clear."

Jared nods, walking the garden path until he's just under her window. It really does feel like he's prince charming or something, and Jared doesn't mind, indulges the fantasy, wondering if all the guys in fairytales had princesses as awesome as his.

He reaches the top and falls through the open window, though Genevieve has to pull him in half the way. Not the smoothest of princes, but he gets the job done.

"My hero," Genevieve says. She's standing above Jared, who is sprawled on the ground where he fell, and watching him with a comical expression.

She's got a long white nightgown on, and it's see-through in the moonlight. This is the best night ever.

Jared smiles, shrugging. "I mentioned how graceful I am on my resume, right?"

Genevieve frowns a little, helping Jared up. "This is a pretty weird job interview, huh?"

Jared tilts his head to the side, not really getting why Genevieve suddenly seems so hurt. "I was just kidding."

"I know," she says, sitting on her bed and sighing. "Or I think I know."

Jared sits next to her, taking her hands in his, and she looks up to meet his eyes.

"Jared, is this…?" She licks her lips. "I'll understand if it is. If you just want to marry me and get my dad to sign his company over to you, I get it. And…I'll go along with it, okay? Hell, I'd rather you get it than that creep Jeff. I just need to know that's what this is. Because you're acting like it's not, and none of the other guys did that, and I'm…I actually like you, so please tell me if this is just about the job for you."

Jared brushes a thumb over the corner of her mouth and leans in, kissing her pouting lips. "Gen, I fell in love with you in that elevator. Before I even knew who you were. And I haven't stopped thinking about you since."

Genevieve looks him over for a few seconds, and then a smile breaks out over her face. She pulls him in for a kiss, and they fall back together.

He wakes up a few hours later. There's a light shining in his face, and the bed is empty next to him. If the silk sheets weren't so unfamiliar, Jared would think the night before had all been in his head.

He sits up. "Gen?"

Something shifts in the room, and Jared only figures out where the light is coming from when she turns to face him. She smiles, looking every bit as infatuated as Jared feels. "Hey," she says. "I'm sorry, did it wake you?"

She points to the computer, and Jared shakes his head. "Nah, I leave mine on while I sleep all the time." Jared lifts the comforter. "Do kind of miss you, though."

Genevieve laughs. "You're adorable," she says.

Jared grins. "I sure am. What are you up to, anyway?"

"Downloading that program," she says. "The one you were telling me about the other night. For designing website layouts and stuff." She gives Jared puppy eyes. "Can you come teach me how to use it?"

Jared laughs. "Now? It's like four in the morning."

Genevieve looks away. "Not if you don't want to," she says, putting her hand on top of the computer like she's about to close it. Jared gets out of bed, rests his hand over hers, stopping her. He's got no problem with it, and she actually seems to genuinely be interested, so whatever.

They spend the next two hours playing around on the computer. Genevieve asks endless questions, and Jared's happy to help. She sits on his lap while he shows her what to do, giggles when he presses his lips into her neck, and Jared's basically in Heaven, even if he does feel a little like he's at work, too.

When the sun starts to peek in through the window, Genevieve jumps, standing and tossing Jared his clothes.

"I hate to do this," she says, "but you should go before the sun really rises. If you get caught in here, I'm pretty sure Dad will insist you make an honest woman out of me."

Jared laughs, pressing a last kiss to her lips before getting dressed. "I'll call you?"

Genevieve grins. "Yes, please." She pushes him toward the window. "Now get out of here."

Jared crawls back down the same way he came, considers trying to get Jensen to show up and poof him home. But work isn't too far from Genevieve's house, and Jared figures at this point, there's not much use in going home before heading into the office. He's only got a few hours before he's supposed to clock in, and he's feeling so good about life that getting there early doesn't sound so bad.

It's not long before he regrets the decision. Jared has a weird feeling the whole way to work, like someone's following him. He doesn't see or hear anything; he's not sure what it is. He just has the feeling.

It's confirmed about five blocks from the office. Jared is cutting through an alley to get there faster, in retrospect not such a good idea when he was already a little spooked. But Jared's a big guy, can usually take care of himself, and it's not like he has any real reason to feel threatened, anyway.

Not until there's a guy in a mask popping up in front of him, pointing a gun at his chest, and another guy coming up behind him, same deal.

Jared tries to reach for his wallet and begins to explain that he won't put up a fight, wondering all the while if Jensen would hear him if he made a wish. The guys don't hear him out, and before he can try wishing, he hears a loud crack. A gunshot.

He feels it pierce him and sinks down, and there's loud barking and sirens, and the sound of two men running. Then it all gets to be too much, and Jared can't hear anything, can't see anything. He coughs, the pain in his stomach somehow getting worse, and realizes with a dim terror that he's dying. He's fucking dying. Five minutes ago it was the best day of his life.

With some effort, Jared manages to open his eyes. There's something in his face, and when it finally stops swimming in Jared's vision, he sees a big, wolflike dog. It feels horribly out of place and random, though it explains the barking. The dog looks worried, which is probably just Jared imagining things. Too much blood loss will do that to a guy.

It whimpers, its nose pushing into Jared, but Jared doesn't feel the impact. That's when he recognizes it, the big green eyes and the speckle of dots along its snout. Jared wants to ask for help, but his voice fails him, and all he manages is a huffy laugh.

"Freckles," he says weakly, trying to shove at the dog's nose. Then the world goes black.

When Jared wakes up next, he's in horrible, agonizing pain. The kind of pain a guy really shouldn't have to deal with when he's already dead.

He opens his eyes with some effort, the surroundings sinking in way slower than they should. It's familiar. Jared tries to sit up in shock when he realizes he's at home.

"Shh," someone says, and suddenly Jared's easing back into bed, obeying the voice as if by instinct. "Calm down, Jay. You'll only hurt yourself worse if you freak out."

"How did I—?" Jared asks. "What even was that?"

"Someone tried to kill you." Jensen is sitting next to him on his bed, his hands resting on Jared's shoulder as if he's pushing Jared down, but there's no pressure. He still can't feel it. "Well, not someone. Jeffrey."

Jared's eyebrows draw together. "What?"

"Those guys weren't trying to mug you. They were following you from Genevieve's to kill you."

"That doesn't make any sense," says Jared. "Why would anyone want to kill me?"

"Because you're going to get that company pretty soon, Jared, and it's obvious." Jensen frowns.

"You really think Jeff would try to kill me over a job?" Jared asks, almost laughing.

Jensen's face is stony when he responds. "I've seen people kill over a lot less."

Jared's smile slips. He doesn't ask; he doesn't want to think about the things Jensen's had to do. He feels sick. "I don't—are you sure?"

"Positive," Jensen says. "I barked up a storm, managed to get those two dicks arrested. I whisked you away from the crime scene before the cops arrived, because I knew you'd be dead if they took you to a hospital. But the guys started talking as soon as they were in custody, and the whole thing led back to your friend Jeff. There was even paper evidence. I guess the guy really thought he would get away with it."

"All this happened while I was out?" Jared asks. He shakes his head, trying to reorient himself. "How the hell long did that take?"

"It's only been a day and a half," Jensen replies.

"Oh, only," Jared mumbles to himself. "Shit, just when things were looking up at work—"

"Please don't worry about stupid shit like that," Jensen says. "I faked a call to work for you. You're sick for the week. They're okay with it. You just need to heal, okay?"

"Easier said than done," Jared tells him. "God, I feel dead. Come to think of it—why am I not dead?"

"I brought you back," Jensen says. "And you'll be okay." His voice is shaky. "I'm sorry, Jay. I had to use a wish. I couldn't swing that kind of magic without it being a wish, and you couldn't make it to the hospital, but I didn't want to…I couldn't just let you die."

"Are you really apologizing for saving my life?"

Jensen looks away. "If I'd been there, it never would have happened to begin with. I know you were saving that wish."

Jared rolls his eyes, attempting to sit up again. A wave of pain washes over him, and he doesn't need Jensen's magic to make him lie back down this time. "Jesus, fuck," he says. "You couldn't do anything about the pain?"

Jensen smiles ruefully. "There are a lot of vital organs reforming themselves inside of you right now. My magic can do a lot, but that's going to hurt no matter what."

"Kinky," Jared says. He closes his eyes, swallows another complaint. Jensen saved his life, shouldn't have to hear him bitching about how much it hurts, but Jared is in agony.

"You need to sleep," Jensen says. "Just sleep it off, the pain will be gone soon."

"I can't." Jared shakes his head. "I'll never fall asleep like this."

Jensen reaches out. Jared doesn't feel his hand as it soothes down his body, but he feels the warmth that slowly spreads over him, all the way down to his bones. "Sleep I can do," Jensen says.

Jared's eyes begin to slip closed, but he struggles against the wave of tiredness long enough to reach out, his fingers sinking right through the wrist he's trying to grab.

"Stay with me, Jensen," Jared says. "I don't want to be alone."

Jensen watches him a few seconds, then changes back into the dog Jared had seen in the alley. It curls up in front of Jared's chest, and even though he can't sink his fingers into the thick fur or feel any kind of solid protection, there's more warmth where Jensen's lying, and Jared feels safe.

It's dark outside, judging by the pitch black in Jared's room. It's dark outside, and Jared is alone. He reaches his hand out, heart sinking when he realizes the dog version of Jensen left his side at some point. Jared feels a little cold, but then he remembers what he felt like when he fell asleep and he's just relieved.

There's no pain anymore. Jared feels completely fine. He sits up, looking around. His eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and he sees that Jensen's lamp has been moved. Instead of out in the living room on his couch, it's propped at the end of Jared's desk, directly across from his bed. He smiles, thinking maybe Jensen didn't ditch him after all.

He shoves his blankets aside and walks over to the lamp, picking it up and rubbing the side. Green smoke pours out; Jensen stands in the middle of it.

"How're you feeling?" Jensen asks, before he's even really taken full form.

"Good," Jared answers. "Really good."

Jensen smiles. "That's a relief."

Jared laughs. "Still not sure why you didn't just leave me to die. Could have a shiny new master by now."

Jensen frowns. "Don't joke," he says. "Don't joke about that, okay?"

Jared swallows hard and looks away. God, he sucks at conversation starters. "I think what I meant to say was thanks."

"It was your wish," Jensen says dismissively.

Jared shakes his head. "No, it wasn't."

"Did you wake me up for a reason?" Jensen shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Or did you just feel like bugging me?"

Jared shrugs. "I didn't mean to bother you. Just kind of wanted some company. I didn't think you would mind, but if you do, it's totally okay."

Jensen shakes his head. "I don't mind," he says. He sits down right where he's standing, cross-legged on the rug in the middle of Jared's room. "What do you want to do?"

Jared takes a seat on the floor, imitating Jensen's posture. "I want to hear more about you."

Jensen makes a sound that wants to be a laugh but isn't really. "Haven't I bored you enough?"

"No," Jared replies. "I want to hear about you. And remember, I'm recovering from being dead here. You _have_ to be nice to me."

Jensen laughs. "You're such an ass."

"Maybe." Jared nearly tries to give Jensen's thigh a slap. Fuck, he keeps forgetting. "But I still want to hear more about you."

Jensen stares down at Jared's hand, and Jared can't read the expression on his face. It doesn't look mad, at least, but then what does Jared know? Finally Jensen's eyes meet Jared's. "Do you want me to tell you or do you want me to show you?"

"Show me wha—?"

There's a tight tug, like a car going from zero to sixty. Jared closes his eyes on instinct, feels a cool breeze on his face before he opens them again. And they're—Jesus. They're floating high over the city on the weird rug Jared's mom insisted he buy to cover the wine stain on his bedroom floor.

"Jensen!" Jared kind of squeals, but in his defense, he's flying on a scrap of fucking fabric with nothing to hold on to. Not even Jensen, who the wind is passing right through, which is kind of really upsetting. Jared could go for an excuse to hang on to him. "Jen, tell me honestly. Are you trying to kill me?"

Jensen laughs. "Now what would be the point of that?"

"I dunno," Jared answers in a very small voice. "But I am clearly going to plummet to my death."

"You won't," Jensen promises. "I'll catch you. Just trust me and I'll catch you."

Jared nods slowly, trying to let some of the anxiety seep out of him. He does trust Jensen. He's just not sure it's totally necessary to put 1000 feet between him and the ground to prove it. "Where are we going?"

Jensen laughs. "Just keep your eyes open, okay? You're not gonna want to miss this."

Jared nods, still pretty petrified. But it's the same kind of scary as being on a rollercoaster now that he's relaxed a bit. Really cool, and definitely exhilarating. "I can see the whole city from here," Jared says. "I think I recognize some of the buildings."

Jensen turns his head back a little, looking Jared in the eye. He seems excited, which is something Jared's never seen on Jensen's face. It's kind of enchanting. "We haven't even gotten started," he says, and he's not fucking kidding.

They ride that carpet past the skyline, and as they speed up, Jared realizes that the buildings they pass by—over, under, just hardly swerving to avoid—are changing. The people who double take as they zoom past are changing. Instead of bright lights and skyscrapers or people in jeans and t shirts, everything starts to scale back.

They're traveling in _time_ , Jared notices, his eyes nearly taking over his whole face when they circle around a half-built Eiffel tower.

"This isn't possible," Jared says. "That thing is like a hundred years old."

"Where do you want to go?" Jensen asks, laughing at Jared's enthusiasm. "What do you want to see?"

"What are my options?"

"Anything," Jensen tells him. "Anytime. Anywhere."

Jared makes a lot of request, and Jensen fulfills almost all of them. All of them except for the ones that make his lips go thin, and Jared realizes Jensen must have been there, must not have happy memories. So he moves on to the next thing before Jensen can make himself uncomfortable, and Jensen keeps giving Jared this weirdly thankful look, as if he's not the one doing something awesome for Jared. Jared can't suppress the urge to reach out and run his hand down Jensen's back, or the air where Jensen's back should be. Jensen just shivers, faking a smile until they reach their next destination and his enthusiasm becomes genuine again.

Jared skims his fingers over the surfaces of lakes that dried up centuries ago, and the water feels cool on his fingers. Jensen takes him to see temples in Ancient Greece that have since become ruins. They end up in the Forbidden City in China, sitting on the roof of the palace, waiting for the best fireworks in history, according to Jensen.

"Dude, I cannot believe that just happened," Jared says, taking a swig of some wine he stole as they flew through the streets of Paris. "No one ever told me that was my fault."

Jensen smirks. "Yeah, maybe the next time you see a guy carving the sphinx, don't yell hello and wave your arms at him."

"I was trying to be friendly!" Jared defends. "I was excited."

"He nearly died," Jensen says, and then he starts laughing again. "Oh god, the look on his face when he saw us."

Jared joins his laughter, clutching at his stomach as it starts to hurt from the effort. It's like the fifth time in the last ten minutes. At least he's getting a workout, but he's just been shot for crying out loud. Jensen should take it easy on him.

"Want to go in for a feast?" Jensen asks. "I'm pretty tight with the current emperor."

Jared burps. "Still full from Russia, dude." The fireworks start, and Jared turns to look at Jensen. "Tell me about the emperor."

Jared is getting kind of tired for conversation, but he could listen to Jensen forever. Jensen smiles. "He was even worse at talking to chicks than you are," Jensen says fondly. "It was kind of cute. The guy was this big political genius and then whenever his intended would come around, he couldn't form a damn sentence."

"I thought you said you'd never seen love," Jared teases.

Jensen looks over at him briefly, frowns and turns back to the sky. "I try very hard to forget when I do."

Jared's chest aches a little at that. Jensen is lonely. He has no idea how he missed that until now, how he didn't realize the front the genie puts up is a mask. "I want you to remember."

Jensen smiles but doesn't look away from the show. "I want to remember," he says, "there are a lot of things I want to remember." He looks at Jared. "I don't know what it feels like to touch someone anymore. It's been so long since I could."

Jared closes his eyes. "It's cool out, but not cold. And on the carpet, when the wind passes by, it's so refreshing it's like jumping into water on a hot day."

"Are we uncomfortable?" Jensen asks.

"A little," Jared says, shifting closer to Jensen. "The roof tiles are digging into our asses."

"Our poor asses," Jensen says, smiling out of one side of his mouth. "The rug isn't soft enough?"

"Well, it helps. But you have such a delicate ass—"

Jensen glares. "On second thought, I'm pretty sure the only pain in my ass here is you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take it however you want, Jared." Jensen blinks a few times. "What else?"

"Our stomachs hurt," Jared says. "We shouldn't have eaten so much."

"Mmm," Jensen says, smiling. "But it was so good."

"Yeah," Jared agrees. "And now we're tired. But it's too beautiful to leave."

Jared can only see half of Jensen's face, but the way he smiles then, all his walls dropped, just genuine and glowing and…it's not like anything Jared's ever seen, even taking the magic carpet ride across the globe into account.

He must be dreaming, he thinks. Even after accepting the genie thing, this is too much to take in. Jared sits up too quickly, nearly sliding off the roof, struck suddenly by the horror of that thought. He's asleep. This is just another dream, like all the other good dreams Jared's had since Jensen started helping him sleep.

He frowns, interrupting Jensen's peace and quiet. "This isn't real, is it?"

Jensen turns his face, clearly surprised by the question, then he shrugs. "Does it really matter?"

"Yes," Jared says. "If this is a dream, none of it is really happening."

Jensen rests his hand next to Jared's. So close to Jared's. "Maybe."

Jared looks down between them. "It's just a dream," he says again, more to convince himself than anything.

"Is it a good dream?" Jensen asks.

Jared picks his head up to see that Jensen is watching him closely. His face is unreadable again, but Jared thinks there's something vulnerable in his expression.

"I know it's not your wish," Jensen says. "I know it's not your dream." He flexes his hand, looks like he's going to cover Jared's with his own, but he doesn't. "But it's not a bad one, either, right?"

Jared shakes his head. "No, it's not a bad one."

He wants that hand to touch him. He wants—God, he doesn't know what he wants.

"I could kiss you here, couldn't I?" Jared licks his lips, then his eyes dip down to Jensen's. "If it's a dream, I can feel you. No reason for the rules to apply."

"I suppose so, Jared," Jensen tells him. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Well, it's one way to know for sure, right?" Jared smiles, leaning closer. "If I kiss you and it doesn't work, then this is really real. I actually got to do all this."

"You can try if you want," Jensen tells him, though the words are so hushed Jared almost doesn't hear them. It doesn't sound like a very genuine offer. "I won’t stop you this time."

Jared almost does. Just to be sure. Just to get to kiss Jensen, so he can have one benefit if it does turn out this isn't real. Jensen looks like he wants Jared to do it, even if his words were hesitant, and something about that want makes Jared's chest expand and retract all at once. It wants to break wide open, but it's a pleasant kind of pain.

But as he's leaning in, he pauses, realizing how wrong this whole thing is. He's got a girlfriend—his dream girl, and besides, Jensen could not have made it clearer, out in the real world where these things count, that he wants nothing less than for Jared to think of him this way. 

And what's worse—those aren’t the real reasons he stops himself. Jared is half an inch from Jensen's mouth, his whole body clenched up in fear, and he realizes he doesn't want to know. He'd rather fall right off this roof than fall through Jensen. He'd rather spend the rest of his life wondering than feel the kiss and know for sure that he dreamt this whole thing up.

Jensen opens his eyes, pulling away. "Jared?"

"Can you take me home?" he asks. "Please."

Jensen winces, then nods curtly.

They don't make any stops along the way. They don't take the scenic route. Jared is back in his bed in the blink of an eye, and according to the clock on his nightstand, only ten minutes have passed.

It was a dream, that couldn't be clearer. But when he wakes the next morning, Jared could almost swear the rug is just a few inches more centered than it was when he went to sleep yesterday. He can't be sure. He's probably imagining it, only seeing a difference because he wants to. He never paid much attention to where exactly the damned thing was.

There's no pain left from the night before, no allover ache telling him there's no way he could have been up in the middle of the night, flying around and getting into trouble without a hitch. There's no way to be sure one way or the other, and Jared can't stand not knowing.

He could always ask Jensen. That's the only way he can be positive, but if he does it, if it was real, Jared's going to have to face this whole thing. He'll have to sort out just what exactly he's feeling. It sounds like a lot of hard work.

Jared groans, sinking back into bed, and wishes he at least had some coffee to get him through the morning.

"Still hurts?"

Jared's eyes fly open and he sits up. "Ahh!"

"Wow, calm down there," Jensen says, laughing as he leans against the doorframe. "I've been here for like a week now, I'd think you'd be used to me popping in by now."

"I am." Jared looks down, realizes he's mostly naked and pulls his sheet up. "I just…forgot. Or you caught me off guard. Or something like that."

Jensen hmms to himself, then walks into the room. He's frowning a little as he sits at the edge of Jared's bed and reaches for the covers as if to fuss with them. "I thought you'd feel okay by now."

"I do," Jared assures him. "I mean, the wound isn't bothering me."

He'd forgotten it was even there. He pushes the covers down just an inch so he can see if there's a mark, and sucks air in quickly in shock. There's a huge, ugly scar where the bullet must have pierced his stomach.

Jensen looks at it, runs a finger over it. Jared can't feel it, but his dick twitches anyway. Shit, that is so not okay. He scoots to the side so Jensen's not touching—or attempting to touch—him anymore, as if that's going to make him any less turned on.

"I can make it go away," Jensen tells him, pulling his hand back quickly and looking up. "If you want me to."

Jared shakes his head. More of that Jensen warmth inside of him is going to do nothing for his current struggle to keep his boner at bay. "It's kind of cool, actually. Makes me look tough."

Jensen laughs softly. "Whatever you say, Jared."

They sit for a few seconds, kind of just staring at each other, and Jared doesn't realize how weird it is until Jensen clears his throat, breaking the moment. "You hungry? I can make breakfast."

"For the first time ever, not really." Jared's eyebrows draw together. "I feel like I ate a feast last night."

Jensen looks away, and something about that, how eager he is not to meet Jared's eyes, makes Jared's heart start pounding just a little faster.

"I had this dream," he continues.

"Dream?" Jensen asks, looking up too fast.

"Yeah. You were in it." He tries to figure out what Jensen's thinking just by reading his face, but it's impossible. "Do you—? I mean, I know you've been helping me sleep. The dreams I've been having lately, do you know what they're about? Do you make them happen?"

"That would be kind of creepy of me, huh?" He shakes his head. "No, I just make sure they're good. Your brain decides what makes them that way."

"Oh," Jared says, looking down at his hands so Jensen can't see his disappointment. "Well, it was just a dream, anyway, not like it matters."

Jensen laughs dimly. "Just a dream," he echoes.

Jared looks back up, catches Jensen's eyes. "Was it?" he asks. "Was it real?"

"Was what real?" Jensen pushes, giving Jared this look like he's waiting for Jared to say it. Like it's real, and all Jared has to do is acknowledge it.

"Last night," Jared says. "When we—"

Jared's phone chooses then to go off, and Jared curses, scrambling to grab it off his bedside table. "It's Genevieve," he says, thumb hovering over the green button. He tries to catch Jensen's eyes again before answering, but Jensen is staring at the phone. "Jensen, was it real?"

Jensen points to Jared's cell and stands up, a thin smile on his face. "You should get that," he says, and then he walks out of Jared's room to give him privacy.

Jared sighs, answering with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. Genevieve is calling to finalize plans they made last week—before Jared got shot and dropped off the face of the planet—that Jared had completely forgotten about. He's the worst boyfriend ever, and that's without taking the fact that he's spent the last three days wanting nothing more than to make out with his genie into account.

Genevieve is supposed to be meeting Jared's friends tonight, his payback for all the family functions he's had to go to. It's not a big deal, just Chad and some guys from work, and Jared had been excited about it when they made the plans. Should still be excited about it. But it means leaving Jensen alone, and Jensen's already been alone for so long that it doesn't seem fair.

He says his goodbyes to Genevieve, hangs up, and then crawls out of bed and into the shower. By the time he gets out, Jensen is already back in his lamp, and there's a bright green light blinking through the glass. Jared knows that means he's awake, but he can't think of a good excuse to summon him, so he heads for the TV and wastes most of the day looking back toward the door to his bedroom, waiting for Jensen to come out.

He doesn't. Jared dresses himself for his big date, no one gives him pointers on how to behave, and Jared knows he doesn't really need them at this point, but it still kind of stings, anyway.

Whatever. All Jared needs is a few beers and some laughs with the guys and his girl on his arm. He hasn't left the house in days. All of this confusion will go away with a little fresh air.

"I'll be right back, babe," someone says, and then Jared feels a kiss on his cheek and realizes he's babe. "Ladies room."

He shakes his head, smiling, and nods at Genevieve. "Yeah, of course."

She tilts her head a little to the side, giving Jared a worried look. "Are you okay? You've seemed out of it all night."

"I'm great," he says. "Fine. Just tired."

She laughs. "Four beers," she mutters as she slides off her stool. "What a lightweight."

Three pairs of eyes watch her make her way across the bar.

"She really knows how to wear a skirt, huh?" says Chad. He lifts his hand for a high five, which Jared blatantly ignores. "C'mon, man. I'm just congratulating you on a job well done."

"Maybe don't stare at my girlfriend's ass so much," Jared says. He kicks Aldis under the table, and Aldis jumps in his seat.

"What?" he says. "What happened?"

"You're ogling his lady," Chad says, putting on an annoyed tone. "Apparently that's not appropriate friend behavior or some shit."

Aldis sighs. "How the hell did you find a hot chick who actually likes World of Warcraft? You are the luckiest man alive."

Jared grins, rolling his eyes. "That is the most jacked criteria I've ever heard."

It's kind of endearing, though, the way his friend's eyes are twinkling. Aldis is probably the only person working in the IT department who genuinely enjoys his job, and he and Genevieve have been talking computer nerd pretty much since she and Jared sat down. He's figured out by now that Genevieve kind of has a massive hard on for all things technological, so it's not all that surprising to see her and Aldis hitting it off.

It is kind of surprising that he's not really jealous about it. Aldis is a good guy, Jared knows he wouldn't ever intentionally hit on his girlfriend, but he's been making goo-goo eyes for the last two hours and Jared's been too preoccupied thinking about his own shit to even care much. He's just been zoning out, making apologetic faces whenever Chad says something too crass, but mostly—Jared doesn't even feel like he's really here. His mind is at home. With Jensen.

This is getting pretty inconvenient.

Jared has another four beers and spends the rest of the night as absent from the conversation as before, and then everyone decides it's about time to head home. Genevieve wraps her hand in Jared's, and he walks her to her car.

He opens the door for her, leaning down to kiss her because that's what he's supposed to do, and she smiles. It's a good smile. Jared fell in love with that smile. But the moonlight lighting up her cheek falls on smooth, white skin, and Jared can't help thinking she'd look a little better with freckles.

"Wanna come home with me?" she offers.

Jared coughs, scuffing his shoe, and then looks back up. "You know, I'm really tired," he says, feeling like the biggest jackass on the planet.

To his surprise, Genevieve nods enthusiastically. "Yeah," she says. "Me too!"

"So we'll just—"

"I'll call you. Tomorrow."

"Good, yeah." Jared smiles again, leaning in for another kiss. It falls on her cheek, he's not sure if it's his fault or if she turned, but they both laugh, and after a long, awkward pause, she gives him a small squeeze on the shoulder and gets into her car.

Jared shrugs the whole weird night off and makes his way home. It'll all make more sense in the morning. He's just drunk—okay, so he doesn’t feel drunk, and he didn't really have that much, but he's probably just drunk.

Yup, that's his story and he's sticking to it.

Jensen's lips are every bit as soft as they look. He's a fucking champ at making out, and Jared grabs onto him, fingers digging into bare shoulder just to hold him where he is. Jared doesn't ever want him to move. If he moves, Jared's pretty sure he'll fall right through.

"What's wrong?" Jensen asks, pulling away a little. He's still so close Jared can feel his breath brushing his face, and god, he smells like some intoxicating mix of incense and wine. "Why'd you stop?"

"I can feel you," he says. "Jensen, I can feel you."

Jensen doesn't say anything, just dives back down, finding bare skin to suck on. It's so hot Jared nearly stops thinking. Nearly.

"Why can I feel you?" he asks, staring up at the ceiling as Jensen does something glorious with his tongue.

"I made a guy come once," Jensen whispers, "just like this. Just my tongue on the shell of his ear." He laughs. "I'm really good with my tongue."

Jared really didn't need to be told. "That doesn't answer my question, though."

Jensen huffs, sitting back. "You know why," he says. "Do you have to ruin everything?"

"This is a dream," says Jared, a little sad. "I can feel you because this is a dream."

Jensen smiles, relaxing as he leans into Jared. "You can feel me, though."

His hands wander down Jared's chest slowly, sliding under the elastic of Jared's boxers. He finds Jared's dick and starts to stroke, and Jared groans.

"Tell me what I feel like," Jensen says.

"Hot," Jared says. "Oh god, it's so hot."

Jared can feel Jensen as he begins to smile against his skin. "Yeah?"

Jared's nearly shaking now, and the things Jensen is doing—with his hand or his magic, Jared doesn't have enough brain cells to tell what the hell it is exactly—should be illegal. "Jensen."

"Let it go," he says. "C'mon, Jay."

Jared sits up, breathing hard through a cold sweat. There's a nasty wet feeling between his legs, and he flushes all over as he realizes he just had a goddamn wet dream. Like he's sixteen years old again. He looks at the lamp sitting on the edge of his desk, at the muted green glow that means Jensen's in there and asleep, and rubs a hand over his face.

He can't help wondering if Jensen can dream, if he's thinking about Jared over there, or about some asshole that broke his heart a thousand years ago. Or maybe Jensen just dreams about freedom. He keeps glancing over at the lamp, embarrassed by the idea that Jensen might wake up and catch him like this.

Finally, Jared gets up, wincing at the slide of come down his legs, cleans himself up, and changes into a fresh pair of boxers before getting back into bed. He was supposed to wake in the morning, after a good night's sleep, and remember all the reasons that he and Genevieve are meant to be.

Instead, he's up in the middle of the night, after a really much too good night's sleep, and he's pretty sure of something, but it's not the answer he was hoping for.

"Jared Padalecki," he tells himself. "You've done some stupid shit, but this takes the cake."

Jensen's lamp glows just a little brighter—almost as bright as when he's awake in there—and Jared can't help but take that as agreement.

Jared presses the end call button on his phone, puts it on the coffee table, and stares at it for a few seconds, waiting for it to blow up, or turn into a puff of air, or start ringing again only to tell him they'd had the wrong number.

"What's up?" asks Jensen.

He's leaning against the wall next to Jared's TV and looking down at Jared with amusement.

"Mr. Cortese—he called—said I…" Jared shakes his head. "Dude, holy shit."

Jensen snorts, slumping into the couch next to Jared. "You really don't understand the concept of wish fulfillment, do you?"

"Not when…" He takes a deep breath. "Wow."

"Tell me!" Jensen says impatiently, almost bouncing in his seat. "I don’t know just how good it is yet, you're killing me here."

"They had to let Jeff walk because there was no body," Jared starts.

"Better than the bastard deserves," Jensen mutters under his breath. Jared rolls his eyes, and Jensen waves his arms in the air. "He tried to kill you!"

"I'm over it," Jared tells him. "Let me finish. So Jeff goes free, but the scandal was bringing the company bad press so Mr. Cortese fired him."

"Uh huh," Jensen says, smiling and leaning forward. "And so he gave you his job."

"Well, he gave Misha his job—"

Jensen interrupts, "So he gave you Misha's job? That's still great!"

"Dude, let me finish," Jared says again, laughing and swatting at the air where Jensen's sitting. "Misha's wife just had a baby, and he said he didn't want to take a promotion that would give him even less time with his family."

Jensen starts grinning, and Jared can't help doing the same. "And _then_ they offered me Jeff's job."

Jensen surges forward, arms open, as if he's about to envelope Jared in a hug, and then he sits back, sighing. "That's great," he says after a few seconds of looking annoyed with himself. "Congratulations, man. I'm happy for you."

Jared laughs. "What're you congratulating me for? You did all the work."

"I did some of the work," Jensen concedes.

"Jeff definitely was guilty though, right?" Jared asks. "I mean, he was a dick, but all this didn't happen to him just so I could replace him?"

"Definitely guilty," Jensen assures him. "But don't worry. I can scramble his brains with a snap of my fingers just to be sure he doesn't try it again. I'll count it as a clause to your second wish. Don't die right now—don't get killed off by the same jackass in a week, either."

"How about you just make him forget he hates me and we call it a night?"

Jensen sighs but smiles, snapping his fingers. "You never let me have any fun."

"Oh, I know, I'm the worst."

Jared sticks his tongue out, and Jensen turns to him, expression fond. "I don’t know about worst. Probably third worst, or maybe even fourth."

"Jensen," Jared says, making an effort to keep his voice steady as he changes the subject. He's scared to broach this; a part of him thinks Jensen might reject him. But he can't keep stringing Genevieve along now that he knows who he's really in love with, and he wants Jensen to know how he feels before he breaks up with her. "I'm going to go see Genevieve today."

Jensen's smile falters. Before Jared can tell him why, Jensen says, "Set me free."

"What?" Jared asks. He's almost positive that came out of nowhere.

"You're going to go propose, right? You've got the job now, so you're gonna go get the girl." Jensen swallows. "And she'll say yes, and that's great. That was what we were working for. I'm happy for you. Really. But I don't need to see it. So set me free. Please, I need to get away from this."

Jared frowns and opens his mouth to reply, but Jensen doesn't give him a chance. "It's not my place to ask for it, I know. But you promised. And I believed you. So, please. Please. Do it, Jared. Like you promised."

"I can't," Jared says, not even realizing it's what he's going to say until the betrayed look passes over Jensen's face.

"You _can't_?" Jensen asks coldly. "Jared, what are you saying? You're the only one who _can_."

"No, I…" Jared shakes his head. He had every intention of freeing Jensen…until Jensen said he wanted to leave. That part of Jensen's freedom for some reason had just never occurred to Jared. And it's obvious—of course Jensen wants to go off and live his own life. He has every right to. But Jared can stop him. Wrong or right, Jared can stop him. What he can't seem to do is make himself say the words that'll let Jensen run away. "I mean, I will. Just. After we're sure. That I have everything. You know? I might still need that wish."

Jensen's eyes narrow. "Right. Of course. You might wake up one day and remember you'd rather have a new car than let me go."

Jensen stands up, and Jared seizes forward, trying to grab his hand to pull him back and explain things. "Jensen, it's not like that."

Jensen rounds on him. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're not letting me talk—"

"I think I've already let you talk more than I should have," Jensen says. He takes a deep breath, and his voice sounds suspiciously watery when he continues, "God, I'm so stupid. I actually trusted you."

"Jensen, please."

He glares. "Please? You don't have to say please to me. I'm your slave, remember?"

"You're not a slave," Jared says. "Not to me."

"Does telling yourself that make you feel better? Do you think just because I use magic means I'm doing any of this because I want to?" Jensen raises his wrist, the one with the metal clasped around it, and holds it out. "No, Jared. I'm a slave. And you're a bastard. You're worse than all the other assholes I've been stuck with, because they never pretended to be—"

Jensen drops his hand and turns his back to Jared. "Forget it. It was stupid of me. I've known better than to expect this for a thousand years. Hell, I stopped even asking centuries ago. I must have been crazy to think you'd be different."

"Jensen, wait."

Jensen freezes and turns slowly. His face is indifferent by the time he's looking at Jared. "Yes, master?"

Jared winces. "Please don't be mad at me."

Jensen's eyes dim even more, and he shakes his head sadly. "If you have a wish, you know where to find me. I'd really appreciate it if you don't summon me until then."

And then he's gone and Jared's pretty sure the lamp will burn him if he tries touching it now.

Jared stares forward, just past Genevieve's eyes, and coughs. They've been sitting here like this for several long minutes, turned toward each other on the couch in her living room, good wine on the coffee table and a fire burning low and romantic across the room. He's got her hands in his, and he looks down at them in his lap, trying to find the words.

"I want to break up," she says.

Jared looks up so fast his head nearly bumps hers. He's not sure if he heard that right, or why the words he's been trying to get out are suddenly in her voice in his head instead of his own.

"What?"

"I want to break up," she says again, squeezing his hands. She's making an apologetic face, and Jared is almost 90% sure he's not imagining this. "Please don't hate me, Jared. I know you came over here to celebrate your promotion and I feel awful spoiling that for you, but—"

"No," he says. "No, me too."

"You too—?" She blinks a few times, then clarifies, "You came here to dump me?"

"I…" Jared licks his lips. "Yes."

"Are you just saying that so I don't feel guilty?"

"No," Jared answers. He braces himself. "There's someone else. I mean—not that I've cheated or anything. But I'm in love with someone else. And I don't want to lie to you about it."

"Me too," Genevieve says, her face almost lighting up. She looks like she's about to laugh, and wow, this is going so much better than Jared could have hoped for. "I met someone else, too."

"It's not that you're not great," he says.

"Exactly," she agrees. "You're wonderful. You're just—"

"Not quite what you were looking for?"

Genevieve nods. "I guess I met you in that elevator, saw your shirt, and made some assumptions. I thought we had things in common that we don't." She grins. "You don't really like computers that much, do you?"

Jared huffs out a laugh and shakes his head.

It wasn't quite like that for him; Genevieve never disappointed him. She's just as smart and funny and wonderful as he'd built her up to be. She's beautiful, dynamite in bed—and Jared's about to give her up for someone he _almost kissed_ in what may or may not have been a dream and who would be justified in never wanting to talk to him again. It seems crazy, but she's not what he really wants. Not in practice. Finding out that that's mutual is making him feel worlds lighter. At least he's only pissed off one person he cares about tonight.

"Who is it?" he asks. "If you don't mind me asking."

She shifts uncomfortably, tucking a hair behind her ear. "It's Aldis. We haven't done anything, I swear, he hasn't tried anything. But we've been talking online since the other night, and I think we have a connection that just isn't—"

Jared smiles. "I know," he says. "I could tell. The other night—everyone in that bar could tell. You guys are gonna be great together."

"Yeah?" she asks. She smiles shyly, ducking her head. "I don't even know if he's into me like that."

He laughs. "You don't need to worry, trust me."

"How about you?" she asks, grinning. "Just tell me it's not that Chad guy."

"Jesus, no," Jared replies, wrinkling his nose. "It's my—"

He pauses, wondering just how he was planning to finish that sentence. _My Genie who lives in a bong_ , maybe. Because that wouldn't look like the world's most obvious lie to try dumping someone nicely.

"My Jensen," he finishes.

"Your Jensen?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Does this Jensen know you've staked a claim?"

Jared coughs at that. Probably more than he wants to, though not in the way Jared's hoping. "Uh. Kind of. Not really."

"You better go straighten that out," Genevieve tells him. She leans forward, kissing Jared on the cheek. "And I have an email to send."

Jared grins, pulling her in for a hug. "I'm so glad we can still be friends," he says. He sits back, holding her at arm's length. "We're still friends, right?"

"Yes, you giant dork," she says through a laugh. "Go get your Jensen."

Jared jumps up, makes it to the door before turning around. Genevieve is standing just behind him, her arms crossed over her chest and a questioning look on her face. "What now?"

"I wasn't ever using you," he says. "You know that, right? I meant it when I said I love you."

"I know, babe," she replies. "Now get off my lawn."

Jensen's waiting on the couch for Jared when he gets home. He looks up as Jared enters, then quickly back down. Jared lets out a sigh of relief. He'd been worried Jensen would still be so mad he'd be hiding in the lamp and wouldn't give Jared enough time to set him free.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Jared, I blew up. I had no right to be upset with you, and I'm sorry."

"You had every right," Jared replies, tugging to loosen his tie. "I lied to you. I let you down."

"It wasn't my place to try taking one of your wishes. They're yours for a reas—"

"Can we not?" Jared interrupts. "I mean, I'm sorry, too. So sorry. And you're going to tell me I shouldn't be, and I'm going to tell you you shouldn't, and I just want to put the whole fight behind us, okay?"

Jensen nods, then fidgets quietly for a few seconds before saying, "Did she say yes? Are you getting married?"

Jared huffs out a laugh as he joins Jensen in the living room. He sits on the sofa instead of the loveseat in case Jensen still wants space. "We broke up."

Jensen's eyes go wide and he starts shaking his head. "No. What? That…" He stands up and moves to sit next to Jared. "That's okay. We still have another wish to work with. We can figure out how to fix this."

"That's your wish," Jared says quietly. "I was never going to use it for anything else. I know you have no reason to believe that, but it's the truth."

"No. I didn't do my job. I fucked something up." He runs a hand through his hair. "I don’t know how, but if you give me another chance, I can get her back for you. Just trust me, and I—"

"Won't let you fall," Jared finishes for him.

Jensen blushes and looks away, but Jared smiles wider than he would have thought he could. That wasn't a dream, and Jensen really did say Jared could kiss him on that palace roof. "I've already fallen."

Jensen doesn't lift his eyes, but Jared thinks he sees him start frowning. "I know. I know how much you love her. I'll fix it for you, I swear."

"No." Jared wants to tip Jensen's chin up, but he has to settle for talking. "Jensen, look at me."

Slowly, Jensen lifts his eyes to Jared's face.

"I wanted to break up, and I don't want to get her back. I told her I fell for someone else."

"But she—"

Jared cuts him off. "It's you. Jensen, it's been you for days, probably longer."

"Jared?" Jensen says in a whisper. "This isn't funny."

Jared catches his eyes so Jensen can see that he's serious. "If you had a wish, what would you wish for? Other than freedom."

"You wanna know what I really want? More than freedom?" 

Jared nods, and Jensen lets out a shaky laugh. "God, you know why I really got so upset earlier? A part of me doesn't even want you to free me. A part of me just wanted an excuse to stay and watch you—be happy with her. Even with how much it hurts. The thought of leaving you makes me want to suffer through it. Stay a genie, as long as I can be _your_ genie. And that terrifies me, Jared. You terrify me."

Jared frowns, but Jensen puts his hands out, framing both sides of Jared's face. Jared can't feel it, he knows that it's just an illusion, but he tries to lean into the touch, anyway. "I just wish I could touch you. All I want is to know what you feel like."

"I wish you were free," Jared responds immediately. His words come out so rushed that Jensen must not process what he said until the gold clamped around his wrist releases and falls onto the couch between them.

Jared reaches out, wraps his fingers where the cold metal was. He feels Jensen's skin begin to solidify, the moment his pulse begins to pump, the warmth as blood rushes back into his veins. Jensen just sits there frozen, staring with his mouth hanging open.

"You…I'm…"

"Free," Jared says, still holding on to him. "To go, but I hope you'll stay."

"Wish for something!" Jensen says. "Quick. Wish for something."

"I could really go for a sandwich right now?"

Jensen grabs the collar of Jared's shirt with both hands and shakes him. "Wish for it!"

"I wish I had a sandwich?"

"Bite me!" Jensen replies with a cheerful smile. "Get your own fucking sandwich."

"Well, I didn't really want you to—"

"Wish for something else." Jensen's whole face is lighting up. He looks so young all of a sudden, and Jared can really get used to it after all that bitterness that's usually lurking in his expression.

"I wish for a hula hooping poodle with three heads."

"Not on your life." Jensen grins. "Again."

"I wish you would kiss me instead of making me wish for thi—"

Jensen drags Jared in by the fabric he's still gripping. He tastes like wine, just like Jared dreamed he would, and Jared sucks on his tongue, his bottom lip, licking as he deepens it. He pulls away. "What do I feel like?"

Jensen reaches up to cup Jared's face again. He leans in, kissing the stubble on Jared's chin. "Rough," he says.

Jared laughs. "That's not what I was expecting to hear."

Jensen smirks, pulls back to kiss his mouth again. "Jared."

Jared turns toward him, letting Jensen's hands skim down his body, touching everything within reach. "Am I allowed to make jokes about you rubbing my lamp now?"

Jensen chuckles and rests his forehead on Jared's shoulder. "Only if you don't mind me punching you in the nuts."

"I'll file that away as a no." Jared smiles, resting one of his hands on the back of Jensen's head. "Any more wishes I can grant for you while I'm on a roll here?"

"Mmm," Jensen murmurs into Jared's neck. He moves up, rubbing his nose against Jared's jaw. "I wanna go to Disney."


End file.
